Resilience Against Abuse

In the modern world, sexual harassment is defined by the European Institute for Gender Equality as "any form of unwanted verbal, non-verbal or physical conduct of a sexual nature that has the purpose or effect of offending a person's dignity...” But even before legal interpretations and international agreements, women suffered from the same actions—simply because they lacked the language to describe what was happening and the authority to complain about it.

Harassment is always an act of dominance, aimed at psychological or sexual control. Victims, then and now, feel confusion, shame, loneliness, and self-doubt. Many ask, "Is it my fault?" In 17th-18th-century Italy, accusations of sodomy against men and harassment against women were associated with vulnerability. However, the nature of this vulnerability varied. Women faced systemic power imbalances, while men faced the possibility of the harshest sanctions from the state and church.

"A charge of sodomy could destroy a man's life, but it was relatively rare," says modern law scholar Andrea Rizzi. "Harassment of women was regular, almost routine, and women lived under duress every day." Sexual harassment against men was rarely reported or subject to official investigation. This didn't mean there were no such cases, but rather reflected the social norms of the era: male vulnerability was ignored, and any hint of sexual pressure between men was unacceptable within the legal or moral framework of the 18th century. "Confession was the only space for women to talk about sex," confirms Professor Maria Giusti, a historian of gender relations at the University of Florence. "But this is precisely what made them vulnerable. Where there is power and intimacy, there is almost always a risk of abuse."

In 18th-century Italy, Catholic women turned to confession to discuss reproductive health, problems in marriage, the menstrual cycle, infertility, etc. The confessional was one of the few places where they were allowed to talk about their bodies and sexuality. But clergy, who had the authority to "assess morality," could exercise that authority.

Roman Catholic morality was tightly tied to female sexuality, and priests were the guardians of these norms. Priests acted as spiritual guides. For women, they were almost semi-divine figures, empowered to make moral judgments. But the imbalance of power made abuse dangerously easy. "In the 18th century, the confessional was not only a religious act but also an instrument of control. Some priests abused it, considering their curiosity in "spiritual matters,'" notes Roman theologian Father Lorenzo Magnani.

Archives show that many men considered their comments "friendly remarks," "gentle curiosity," or even "jokes." But women perceived them as humiliation, hostility, and attempts at dominance. Despite the risks, some women still decided to go against the system and appealed to the Inquisition. Tribunals in 18th-century Italy did indeed accept complaints about inappropriate behavior by clergy.

The punishments could be quite severe: fasting and spiritual exercises, ban on service, transfer to another parish and hard labor. This shows that the Roman Catholic Church recognized the problem and responded to it. The Vatican archives confirm that women understood the sexual subtext. They were not naive or ignorant. In 1736, in Pisa, a woman named Rosa complained that her confessor, having learned of her marital problems, suggested she "use her fingers on herself" to arouse her husband. She was shocked and immediately reported it.

In 1779, in Onano, a confessor explained the basics of sexual intercourse to a parishioner. In 1739, in Siena, 40-year-old Lucia experienced humiliation: her confessor claimed that women had "ovaries like chickens" and that to become pregnant, she "only had to take off her hat." She described this conversation as an insulting intrusion into her intimate life. Women understood every such gesture and innuendo clearly: it was harassment disguised as "spiritual instruction."

In 1659, a canon invited a parishioner to "meet him in the vineyard," thinking it was an innocent flirtation, but she perceived it as a threat and complained to the authorities. Historian Emma Ricci, a researcher of confessional practices, notes: "When women in the 18th century turned to the Inquisition, it was a desperate but conscious step. They knew they were taking a risk, but they understood that silence was more dangerous."

Psychologist Carla Falcone (Institute of Family Dynamics) is confident: "The psychological profile of a victim in the 18th century is remarkably similar to today's: confusion, shame, guilt. But women back then demonstrated incredible resilience." Harassment in confessionals was not an exception, but a systemic phenomenon. Their mechanism was built on inequality: a male priest and a female parishioner. The women were not passive – they complained, resisted, and went to court. The Inquisition, contrary to stereotypes, often became an organ of protection, and not just repression.

Documents that have survived show that women understood the innuendo, sexual language, and context, and realized that this was violence. The history of harassment in confessionals is more than just a historical episode. It's a mirror of contemporary structural problems. It reminds us that abuse of power always thrives where inequality, trust, and lack of control exist.

-Pravda.ru